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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28377162">Light to Dark</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kingsword/pseuds/Kingsword'>Kingsword</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Redemption and Remaking [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blacksmithing, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Other, Short One Shot, Vignette, Weapons, seduction of mairon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:22:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>585</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28377162</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kingsword/pseuds/Kingsword</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mairon falls into the abyss.  He hates every minute of it.  </p><p>A brief character study of Sauron.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sauron | Mairon/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Redemption and Remaking [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2010949</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Light to Dark</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote this in twenty minutes on my phone.  I apologize for any mistakes.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The music swells, dances, wheels about him, and still something is <em> wrong.  </em>His voice forces itself into the choirs, a deep, rough, soulful thing that twists something into being.</p><p> </p><p>It is War.  It is Order.  It is Creation.  A sense of purpose washes over him.  He raises his voice.  </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Horses galloping over fields, chants of strength, fires exploding cities, toppled empires, thousands marching in unison.   </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Then the song changes.  Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, then louder, stronger.</p><p> </p><p>Belekôrôz sings thumping percussion. Power laces through him.  Fire, ice, iron—all becomes possible.</p><p> </p><p>Mandaktō intertwines his music carefully with Belekôrôz’s, but only a little.  </p><p> </p><p>When the time comes to go to this new world they have made, Mandaktō—now Mairon—and another, Melómë, remain together.  They decide they are wed, and so they are.  </p><p> </p><p>Melkor, once Belekôrôz, is gone.  Mairon knows that he’ll be back, cannot explain why, but he does.</p><p> </p><p>At one point, the fourteen most powerful decide the others must follow them.  They divide them up according to their skills.  Mairon and Melómë are separated; he is given to Aulë, she to Mandos.  </p><p> </p><p>Neither is pleased.  </p><p> </p><p>They reunite, now fully embodied.  He is a titan of earth, she, an eerie spirit.  </p><p> </p><p>Somehow, they have a son.  Draugluin, they name him.  He’s tiny in his father’s massive arms. </p><p> </p><p>Mairon longs, aching and enraged, for freedom, for power.  Eönwë, decreed the herald of Manwë, thinks he is being foolish.  “Rejoice in the bliss of Almaren,” he says with a smile.  “It is perhaps the greatest that shall ever be.”</p><p> </p><p>“Is it bliss if not all are joyful?” Mairon snaps back, and Eönwë retreats.  </p><p> </p><p>Melómë shares his rage.  She wants to use the substances in plants that can destroy for her purposes.  No, Yavanna tells her, that is evil work.</p><p> </p><p>He turns to the forge.  In his hands, Varda’s requested staff becomes sharp at one end, the tip hard and vicious.  He calls it a spear, and secretly, gives it to Melómë.  It whirls through the air for her, as if they were born fused together.  She makes something called poison and coats the tip in it.</p><p> </p><p>He makes another kind of weapon (as he has named them).  It has a long blade and a short handle separated by a barrier that sticks out and crosses horizontally.  It is elegant, poised, brutal. It rumbles in his hands: <em> Fëaruina, </em>his sword.  </p><p> </p><p>He makes many more weapons and hides them from everyone save Melómë.  </p><p> </p><p>He makes a hammer meant for killing that he cannot make fight for him.  </p><p> </p><p>When Melkor slips inside, small bejeweled hands fluttering over the hammer, it booms its name.  <em> Grond.  </em></p><p> </p><p>One of Melkor’s Maiar takes an axe.  He gives his name as Gothmog and thunders off.  </p><p> </p><p>Melkor starts visiting him more often.  Tempts him with power.  Freedom.  Mairon is, unfortunately, an excellent listener.  Melkor’s lips form evil words and Mairon <em> falls, </em>and so does Melómë.</p><p> </p><p>Mairon becomes Thû.  Melómë becomes Yóriel.  They have a daughter, Thuringwethil.  She knows only darkness, and though she cannot destroy arteries and veins like her mother can, she hungers for blood.</p><p> </p><p>When Yavanna begs him to have mercy on one of the younger Maiar (this while Melkor destroys the lamps) he only sneers and devours the fool’s body.  </p><p> </p><p>He, Gothmog, Yóriel, Draugluin, and Thuringwethil become a family.  Soon, Melkor’s Maiar split into groups of twenty called ruckuses.  </p><p> </p><p>Thû falls deeper.  His cruelty becomes renowned; his devotion to his lord even more so.</p><p> </p><p>He hates Melkor for this more than anything else.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Look, I’m tired and Sauron was in my head.  That is my only excuse.  Please comment; it would be very helpful to receive feedback.  Just not of the rude variety.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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